


Brooklyn Mix Tape

by Codydarkstalker



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Caw Caw Motherfucker, Deaf Clint Barton, M/M, Multi, Spidey Sense, disappointing captain america
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-26
Updated: 2017-08-10
Packaged: 2018-05-23 09:21:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6112060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Codydarkstalker/pseuds/Codydarkstalker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter Parker has a hard life, between school, a demanding girlfriend and his duties as a super hero and part time Avenger. So it comes as no surprise to him when life suddenly gets a lot harder. Maybe a move is order.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Bitches by Mindless Self Indulgence

Chapter 1, Bitches By Mindless Self Indulgence

 

Peter took one last glance around the roof before grabbing his backpack with his Spiderman suit and and clambering down the fire escape. The trouble with his Aunt and Uncle’s house in Queens was that the buildings in the area were all small, all little houses and corner stores, and he had to change a few blocks away and go home on foot. He had tried to just sneak home in the suit and change in his own room, but the neighborhood watch had gotten the idea he was some sort of peeping tom, and there had been a less than flattering picture of him on a neighbor’s roof next to a second story window. 

 

The street was mercifully empty of cars and foot traffic, and Peter headed home with the hood of his jacket down, able to enjoy the cool evening air for the first time that night. He was a few houses down from his own when he caught a strange sound coming up behind him, and his spidey sense flared. He pulled up his hood and turned slightly to see who was tailing him. 

 

In the dim light of the flickering streetlamps, it was hard to make out details. But halfway down the block a large man was walking, heavy boots thumping on the pavement, and something metallic shining on his back. As he got closer Peter could make out a familiar voice, singing softly. Deadpool. 

 

“♫  _ Bitches love me cause they know that I can rock, bitches love me cause they know that I can rhyme , bitches love me cause they know that I can fuck! Bitches love me cause they know that I’m on time, throughout the projects ♫” _

 

As he passed under a street lamp Peter could see the man had wires running down from under his mask and into one of the pouches at his belt and was bouncing to the beat of a song as he walked. It would have been amusing, watching the large man practically skipping down the road, if it weren’t for the sticky trail of blood he was leaving in his wake, his large boots splattering it with each step. 

 

Peter held his breath and stayed as still as he could in the shadow of a tree, hoping he would go unnoticed. He had never dealt with the other man, but he had heard plenty about him. Certainly enough to know he was better off avoiding him.

 

“Deadpool is a fucking menace. He breaks everything he gets within five feet of!” Tony had snapped when he caught sight of an ad in the local paper for the mercenary’s services. “I have never seen anyone destroy tech as fast as him.”

 

Clint had just laughed and said Deadpool was “Funny as shit but a little deranged.”

 

Steve had frowned at the ad and put his head in his hands, muttering something about a lack of personal boundaries and hygiene. After which he had retreated to his room and refused to come out for several hours.

 

Overall it was a less than stellar recommendation for the man. Who had stopped dead about ten feet from Peter. 

 

“Hey isn’t it a bit late for kids to be runnin’ around?” The mask around Deadpool’s mouth moved and Peter thought he was smiling. “All sorts of crazies out at this time of night. Not very safe.”

 

Peter snorted and stood up straighter, trying to look a bit taller. “I’m not a kid. I can walk around at night.” He mentally cursed himself for the way his voice cracked. 

 

Deadpool nodded. “Well maybe on a normal day I would disagree but turns out, I already took care of the biggest baddie in town! Tonight, I’m a good guy, so you don’t have to worry a bit about little ole me. Well maybe a bit, but not, like, a lot, ya know?”

 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Peter replied flatly. He was so close to home and all he could think about was falling into bed, and trying to keep up with Deadpool wasn’t doing his overtired brain any favors. 

 

Deadpool sighed and started digging around in the pouches strapped to him. A number of things fell out; taco bell hot sauce packets, gum wrappers, an empty box of Captain America themed band aids. After a few moments he made a triumphant noise and held up a Stark phone, the same model all the Avengers had to keep them in contact with SHIELD and each other. Deadpool had seen fit to put his into a Hello Kitty case, with the cat’s face colored in to resemble his own mask. He poked at the screen a few times and then flipped it to show Peter. 

 

“See? You know this guy kid?” On the screen was a picture of a man, his face was heavily bruised and his nose was bleeding heavily. In the corner of the picture Peter could see a gun trained on his head. 

 

“No! What the fuck!” Peter flinched back, and took another look up and down the street. There was no way he was going to be able to change back into this Spidey suit, so the best he could hope for was that the street would stay empty if a fight broke out. 

 

Deadpool laughed and tossed the phone in the air, flipping it before catching it and depositing it back in his pouch. “Oh, well that’s great. I mean, not surprising really, since he was just some random goon. You might be more familiar with the man who hired him though. The name Osborn mean anything to you? Scary guy? Rides some kinda hoverboard nonsense? Man, I wish I have a hoverboard, and not one of those lame segway looking things. But a real one, like Back to the Future, damn but that movie lied to us…”

 

Peter snapped his fingers in front of Deadpool’s face to bring his attention back. “Why would Norman Osborn want anything to do with me?”

Deadpool chuckled. “Oh, well, it’s not exactly  _ you _ he was interested in. In fact, from what I can gather, and I gathered a lot, he knows you pretty well already. But somehow he missed one  _ amazing- _ ly big detail.” He leaned in close, wrapping a muscular arm around Peter’s shoulder so he could whisper right into his ear. “He doesn’t know you’re Spiderman.” 


	2. No Sleep Till Brooklyn by The Beastie Boys

Chapter 2 No Sleep Till Brooklyn by The Beastie Boys

 

For a second time seemed to stand still. Peter could hear his heartbeat, loud, and Deadpool breathing against his ear even louder, and he could smell the other man. A strange mix of copper, smoke and sweat. Then all at once it hit him, Deadpool knew who he was. Peter cursed and yanked himself backwards, rolling into a somersault and springing back.  

 

Deadpool laughed and fell back into a wider stance, bringing his arms up to block himself in case Peter made a move to attack. But he didn’t reach for a gun or a sword, just held himself low and steady. “Hey now baby! No need to be pulling a move like that, I ain’t here to bust up your bug business. I already told you, I’m the hero in this one!” He cocked his head and seemed to take a long look at Peter, who was crouched down, ready to spring away if Deadpool moved to shoot, or forward if the merc seemed to ready to run. When Spiderman did it, in that tight spandex suit, he looked dangerous and almost feral. When Peter Parker did it, with his hair still messy from his mask and his glasses sliding down his nose, it was a bit comical. 

 

Peter snorted. “Yeah sure, you’re a good guy. That’s why you’re stalking me.”

 

Deadpool nodded and pulled himself back upright, fussing with his pouches again. “Exactly! I’m stalking you  _ because _ I’m the good guy right now. I mean, not to say I’ve never stalked you before, you know as Spidey, for less than pure reasons, but oh god my love for your booty in that outfit is the purest form of love, and wow now that I get a better look at you, I suddenly feel like a creeper, what are you like fourteen? Ugh, I mean, I know, I know, beggars can’t be choosers but damn, I like to keep it legal. Well, sex wise at least, ya know?”

 

Peter cut him off, fear being overwritten by frustration. “Deadpool! What are you talking about?”

 

Deadpool stuck his hand into another pouch and then pulled out a slim piece of plastic. He held it up in triumph and then tossed it at Peter, who caught it out of the air. It was a SHIELD card, glossy under the streetlight, with the eagle logo embossed on it and Deadpool’s legal name of Wade W. Wilson on the back. On the bottom corner in red were the words “valid through-” and then two dates, the first from the monday before and then last giving two days until expiration.

 

“I didn’t know SHIELD ID cards expired.” Peter handed the card back. 

 

Deadpool shrugged. “I don’t really work for SHIELD all that much, so they just give me one of those each time I get a job. Not that it matters much anymore, my Avengers membership card is totally in the mail. Tony Stark told me so.”

 

Peter raised an eyebrow. That was...unlikely. “When did he tell you that?”

 

Deadpool laughed. “Oh, about six months or so ago? I did some work for him, stealing back some dark company secrets or something, whatever. It’s totally just lost in the mail. That or it’s an immigration thing. Like, maybe I need a green card before my Avengers card? I’m Canadian ya know. I should ask Wolverine, he’s Canadian too you know. I feel like no one remembers that about us. Maybe because we don’t say “eh?” that much? But, come on, how Canadian should we be? I could sew a maple leaf on my suit and dip myself in syrup but I think I would attract ants.”

 

Peter sighed, shoulders slumping. “Okay, so, let me try and get this straight.” He paused as Deadpool snickered and muttered something about the Kinsey scale. “You,” he pointed at Deadpool “Are on some mission, from SHIELD.”

 

“From Nick Fury himself.”

 

“A mission to...kill some guy sent by Osborn?”

 

Deadpool waggled his hand from side to side. “More like a mission to make sure that some random goon didn’t un-alive you. Killing him was just the easiest way to be sure. Dead guys can’t share intel ya know. Usually.”

 

Peter bit his lip and considered his next point for a moment. “So, that means SHIELD, and the Avengers, know who I am now. I mean, I never told them my identity but if you’re here they must have figured it out.” 

 

Deadpool shook his head. “No, not exactly. I mean, they told me to save  _ Spiderman.  _ So, I did. You just happen to be Spiderman, and I just so happen to have been tracking a guy tracking you, so ya know, you can see how that all works.” He paused. “I do think they were hoping I would spill the metaphorical beans if I did find out who the amazing arachno-boy was though.” 

 

Peter groaned and buried his face in his hands. This was clearly a nightmare. Any moment now and he would wake up to Aunt May  standing over his bed telling him she had made wheatcakes for breakfast. He closed his eyes and pinched himself, and then slowly opened them. No dice, Deadpool was still in front of him, playing with his phone. 

 

“Deadpool, listen, you  _ can’t _ tell Fury who I am, okay? I have friends, I have family! I know that might not mean much to you or even him, but I can’t let this information get out. It would put way too many people in danger.” He winced at the whine in his voice, but he was desperate. It was bad enough to know Green Goblin had gotten so close to finding him out, if SHIELD and the Avengers knew who he was, life would only get more difficult. Not for the first time he imagined just running away. Maybe to a cabin upstate. 

 

Deadpool held a up a finger to silence Peter before he could continue as he pushed a button on his phone and began speaking to the person on the other end of the line. 

 

“Hey, bro, it’s Deadpool.”

 

“Yeah, I need a favor.” He held the phone away from his ear, and Peter could make out the faint sounds of someone cursing. 

 

“Now come on, that was one time, and this is different. I know, I know, I am a huge jerk, whatever. Just send me a car okay? I’m gonna text you the address. I’m in the middle of fucking Queens so it might take a bit. Okay? Okay. Buh bye!” 

 

Deadpool swiped his thumb across the screen, ending the call. He pressed a few buttons and then stashed the device back in a pouch before turning back to Peter. “You need to get a bag together, we are going on a little trip.”

 

Peter took a step back and shook his head. “I’m not just gonna let you hand me over to SHIELD you know.”

 

Deadpool shook his head. “Nope, not SHIELD, don’t worry. No helicarrier for you, just an Ooper car to Bed-Stuy.”

 

Peter blinked. “There’s no SHIELD base in Brooklyn. And the Avengers headquarters are in manhattan.” He spoke slowly, as if he was sure Deadpool was somehow mistaken about which land mass they were on.

 

“Yeah, isn’t that kinda the point? Now come on!” he started walking towards the Parker house, pushing Peter in front of him. “We gotta hurry, if we miss the car we’re gonna have to take public transit and I don’t do buses baby boy.”

 

They managed to climb the side of the house without getting caught or waking Aunt May, which Peter thanked whatever non Asgardian Gods were listening for. Standing in Peter’s bedroom Deadpool looked even larger than he had on the street, covered in blood and wholly out of place. He looked around while Peter dumped out his backpack and started throwing things into it, a laptop and charger, a spare Spidey suit, civilian clothes.

 

“Wow, this room is very...highschool.” Deadpool shifted around, obviously uncomfortable in the space. There were family photos on the wall, and a shelf of school science fair trophies, and a pile of old videogames. 

 

“Well, I am in highschool,” Peter snapped. “So, forgive me for that.” He motioned to the bed. “Sit, stay, I need to get a few things from downstairs.”

 

He watched the mercenary gingerly lower himself onto the clean, if somewhat threadbare, duvet and then sighed. It was all a bit surreal for him. He needed coffee, and maybe a nap, or a new life.  He rushed downstairs and grabbed his jacket off of the rack by the door and then took a moment to write a note to Aunt May, leaving it on the kitchen table. He wasn’t sure where he was going or why, so he just said he was going to stay with Harry for a bit because they had a big school project together. He had used the excuse before and knew it would buy him at least a few days before she became suspicious. He felt guilty for a second, but then pushed the feeling down. He couldn’t tell her the truth even if he wanted to, he really didn’t know where he was going. Or at least, he didn’t know any particulars besides somewhere in Brooklyn. 

 

When he got back to his room Deadpool had made himself comfortable, stretched out on the bed, an earbud in one ear. He was humming to himself quietly. 

 

_ “♫   _ _ My job ain't a job, It's a damn good time. City to city I'm running my rhymes. On location Touring around the nation _ _ ♫”  _  He looked up when Peter walked in and then sat up on the bed, swingin his legs over to stand up. “All done?”

 

Peter nodded and then raised an eyebrow at the headphones, which were still playing, tinny music semi audible. “Thematically appropriate huh?”

 

Deadpool chuckled and clicked a button on the side of the cord, turning the music off. “Hey, it’s a classic.”

 

They climbed out of the window and within five minutes the car was there. Peter stowed his bag in the trunk as Deadpool gave the man the address, somewhat surprised at how calm the driver was about picking up a masked man and a kid so late at night.

 

Deadpool seemed to notice his confusion. “I use this car service a lot,” he supplied as they climbed in the back seat. “I even get a frequent riders discount!”

 

Peter just nodded and settled back into the seat, staring out the window as the headed down the road. 


	3. Ivory Bill by Shanon Wurst

Chapter 3 Ivory Bill by Shannon Wurst

Peter was surprised by how normal looking the building they pulled up to was. It was a typical brownstone, on a typical residential street. There were a few cars parked on the street, a bike chained to a tree. Nothing out of place at all. It didn’t look much like a secret SHIELD office, which he supposed was the point. 

When they got out of the car Deadpool pulled his phone out and motioned for Peter to wait while he pushed a few buttons. A minute later and a light came on in the windows on the top floor. A minute after that and the door to the building swung open, revealing a tall, harried looking blond man. One that Peter recognized.

“Wade, you seriously are the biggest pain the ass, ya know that?” Clint grimaced and moved to hold the door open, ushering the other men inside. “You and your bullshit are above my pay grade. I should be calling Fury right now. Or Coulson maybe, I don’t know, but somebody.”

Wade pulled his mask up over his mouth and nose and flashed a wide grin. He tucked his phone away and clapped a huge hand on Peter’s back and pushed him forward. “Aw, come on bird boy, I had to come to you. You know you’re my fave Avenger.” He reached out and ruffled the man’s hair, tousling the blond locks.

Peter hesitated for a moment, expecting Hawkeye to hit Deadpool, but to his surprise Clint just flushed and reached up to fix his hair, brushing the merc’s hands away lightly. It was funny to see the man acting so...normally. On the occasion they had worked together on a mission with the Avengers Hawkeye had seemed like a machine, flawlessly moving through the city, taking down enemy after enemy with perfect shots. He didn’t even have any super powers, but Peter felt like the man had put him to shame with his fighting abilities. He froze when the blond’s attention turned towards him. 

Clint narrowed his eyes and looked Peter up and down, taking in his scuffed shoes and messy hair and suddenly Peter wished very much that he looked less like, well, like a kid who needed a good night's sleep. Clint just shook his head and headed up the stairs, waving a hand for them to follow him. 

Peter turned his head to look at Deadpool. “Is this Hawkeye’s house? For real?”

Clint glanced back before Wade could answer. “Hey, no talking behind my back when I don’t have my ears in,” he snapped. 

Peter glanced towards Wade with wide, confused, eyes.

Wade shook his head and waited until the had reached the top floor, when Clint unlocked the door and ushered them into a huge studio apartment. Once the door was closed and locked he turned and motioned to his own ears (or the place they were hidden under the mask), so Clint could answer.

“I’m deaf. Well, mostly deaf. I can read lips just fine though, and I have hearing aids, good ones, I just don’t always keep them in. Especially when I’m sleeping.” At that he turned and shot Deadpool a nasty look. 

Wade just shrugged and grinned. “Sorry to take away from your beauty sleep but I was kinda out of my depth here.”

Clint nodded and moved into the kitchen, pressing a button on the side of the coffee maker and motioning for them to take a seat at the bar top counter. He pulled down three mugs and, once the pot was full, filled them, putting out milk and sugar. He didn’t say another word until he had drained the mug once and refilled it. This one he set down and fixed with some milk and sugar before fixing his gaze on the men in front of him. 

“Okay, so please, someone, explain to me why I am awake at this ungodly hour. The explanation had better be good, and since I haven’t gotten the Avengers Assemble bulletin yet, I’m really struggling to think of what it could be.” He took a sip of his coffee and looked at Deadpool pointedly. 

Wade shrugged, taking a sip of his coffee and shuddering before adding about six spoonfuls of sugar. “Well, the thing is, it’s a secret.”

Clint waited for a moment, clearly expecting more to be said. “A secret?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

“A secret.”

“I see.”

“Do you, because I’m not sure I do. I kinda forgot what’s going on.” Wade grinned and tossed back the coffee, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

Pete took the opportunity to sneak a look at the exposed skin of Deadpool’s face. He had seen pics of the man without his mask, normally because it had been destroyed in a fight. But this was different, up close he could see his skin looked tight and shiny in spots like a bad burn. He had to force himself to look away and focus on his coffee. 

Clint dropped his head and groaned, scrubbing his face with his hands. “Wade if you don’t tell me what’s going on in the next thirty second I am throwing you and your little friend out on the street, I swear to god I will do it.”

Wade put his hands up hurriedly. “No man, don’t do that! The thing is…” He took a deep breath. 

“ThisisPeterandhemightseemlikeastrangerbutheisn’t,youtotallyknowhimyoujustdon’tknowthatyouknowhimbecausehenormallywearsthismaskthing,youknowhetotallycopiedmysuitdesign,butyeahthisisactuallySpidermanandItotallysavedhimandIkindadon’thaveasafehousethat’sactuallysaferightnowbecausetheplaceIwasrentingisinabadpartoftownandifIleavehimtherehe’sgonnagetshotwithorwithoutthehelpofNormanOsbornsoIwasthinkinghecouldcrashherewithyouwhileItrackdownOsborn’sguysandmakesureknowoneletsouthissecretidentityandadressandsocialsecurityorsomeshitandIsaidIwouldn’ttellbutyou’retheonlycoolAvengersoIfiguredthiswasbetterthandragginghimallthewayupstatetotheXmenorsomething.”

Clint blinked slowly. “Wait, did you just say SPIDERMAN??” His voice raised slightly as he turned and looked at Peter.

Peter just smiled wanly and waved. “Hi Hawkeye.”

“Oh, fuck.” Clint turned and started rifling through a cabinet, turning back with a bottle of something. He unscrewed the cap and poured a liberal amount into his half drunk coffee, and then did the same for Wade. When Peter held out his own cup he hesitated for a moment, clearly wanting to ask if Peter was even legal, before deciding against it and just pouring the drink. “This is what I get for letting you know where I live. I should have moved after the last time you showed up.”

Wade whined, mouth full of whiskey and coffee. He moved his hands quickly, signing something that made Clint snort and roll his eyes.

“Okay, okay, fine. I guess I can play babysitter.” He turned to look at Peter. “You okay with staying here for a few days?”

Peter shrugged, sipping gingerly at the boozy coffee. He didn’t really drink, but the whiskey had seemed like a good idea in the light of the night’s events. It burned his throat a bit, but after a few swallows he could feel the warmth spreading in his stomach, untying the knots of stress. “Yeah, as long as it’s not a huge bother for you. I would have gone right to the Avengers, but I really don’t want my identity getting out, at least not yet. I have family here in the city.”

 

Clint nodded slowly. “Yeah, I get that, it can be tough with everyone knowing everything about you. On the one hand, no worrying about some secret you have to keep from everyone. On the other hand, shit like this.” He gestured to Wade, who had finished his coffee and was now pouring a liberal amount of whiskey into his empty mug.

Peter laughed, and something in Clint’s face shifted, softening a bit. He smiled and put down his drink, motioning for Peter to follow him into the large, open living room. The walls were painted a muted shade of light purple, and there was a large, soft looking black couch with a purple throw blanket over the arm. Across from it was a wall mounted TV and a metal shelf of different electronics, a tangle of wires spilling down the back. 

“The couch folds out, but I swear it’s more comfortable like this. I’ll go and grab some more pillows and stuff. Feel free to turn on the TV if you can figure it out. Stark got me one of those fancy universal remotes but the thing might as well be some magic Asgardian tech to me.” Clint gestured vaguely to the coffee table, where a little metal pad with a screen sat, and then headed upstairs.

Peter kicked off his shoes and stretched out on the couch, grabbing the remote device. It was a Stark product, unsurprisingly, and fairly easy to use if you were familiar with any of the company’s other devices. He pressed a few buttons and set the TV to a music station, the sound low and the screen filled with shifting abstract colors.

“My Name is Ivory Bill, You ain't seen me in a long time til You spotted me up in the tall, tall trees♫ ” The singer had a soft, sweet voice, and the guitar strumming was low enough to almost disappear. 

Peter took another sip of his coffee before putting it down and settling back on the couch. It was soft, and the blanket was warm. He took a slow deep breath, his eyes suddenly very heavy. He didn’t even hear Clint come back down the stairs, but he felt the weight of a heavier blanket settle over him, and he heard the murmur of voices from the kitchen, low and soothing. For a moment he wondered if he should rouse himself, but the couch was too comfortable, the voice from the TV too gentle. He fell asleep before the song ended.


	4. Soak Up the Sun by Sheryl Crow

Chapter 4 Soak Up the Sun by Sheryl Crow

Peter woke up to sunlight streaming into the windows, a horrible screeching sound coming from behind him, and the smell of pancakes and coffee. It took him a moment to remember where he was, stretched out on a couch in Hawkeye’s apartment in Brooklyn, and why, Osborn had sent someone to kill him and nearly discovered his secret identity. 

He sat up and swung his legs down and looked around. From his spot on the couch he could see Clint, sitting at the bar, an entire pot of coffee in front of him. He was staring straight ahead, seemingly not noticing Peter at all. As Peter walked into the kitchen area, he could see what was holding the man’s attention. Deadpool was in the kitchen, at the stove, in an apron. He had stripped out of his Deadpool uniform and was wearing nothing but a frilly purple apron, a pair of black boxer briefs, and his mask. He was also making what seemed like enough pancakes to feed an army of Hulks. Deadpool was also, unsurprisingly, the source of the screeching noise. 

“♫ Every time I turn around I'm looking up, you're looking down. Maybe something's wrong with you that makes you act the way you do. Maybe I am crazy too ♫ ” 

Peter watched as the muscular man expertly flipped a perfect pancake out of the pan and onto a stack on a nearby plate. He continued to sing as he poured more batter into the pan, moving the bowl to form a pattern as he poured. Peter moved up and tapped Clint on the shoulder.

“What’s going on?”

Clint turned to look at him and then paused for a moment before reaching up to fidget with two small devices in his ears. Once he was done he grimaced dramatically. 

“Sorry, what was that? I had my ears turned off. Wade makes great pancakes but he insists on singing when he cooks, and this song isn’t really in his register.” He flinched dramatically as Deadpool a particularly screechy high note.

Peter laughed and glanced at the coffee pot. “I was just asking what was going on. Hey, any chance I could get some of that coffee?”

“Here’s a mug baby boy!” Deadpool reached into a cabinet and pulledcout a white mug with a purple “H” stamped on it and slid it down the bar before turning back to his pancakes.

Peter looked at the mug thoughtfully. “Hey, is that the Hawkeye logo on your mug?”

Clint smiled sheepishly and poured some of his coffee into the cup. “Maybe. I’m not sure anyone else buys my merchandise.”

“Hey!” Deadpool interrupted. “I know for a fact Peter Quill is a total fanboy for you.”

“Peter Quill?” Peter raised an eyebrow at Clint, who was blushing.

“Starlord.” 

“Starlord is a fan of yours...and buys your merchandise?” Peter took a long sip of the coffee. Coffee was good. Coffee was great. “Isn’t that a bit weird.”

Clint shrugged and pointed at Deadpool. “Not as weird as Wade having Spidey underwear.”

“What??”

Deadpool turned and brandished a spatula at them. “Hey! You learned that in a private moment!”

Clint turned to Peter, hands in the air. “That private moment involved Wade being chopped into no less than four pieces. I cut the suit to help stick him back together.”

“And to sneak a peek,” muttered Wade, attention moving back to his pancakes. “Anyways, no time for a fun trip down memory lane right now, breakfast is ready!” He plopped three plates piled high with pancakes on the table. On the top of each stack of perfect, round pancakes was a special one. One was a letter “H”, one was a “P” and one was a “D”.

“Shouldn’t that be a ‘W’ though?” Clint asked as he grabbed for the syrup. 

Deadpool shrugged and folded the pancake, and the three beneath it, into a taco shape, filling them with butter and syrup, and then stuffed the mess into his mouth all in one bite. It was a bit like watching a shark feed, only messier. 

Peter scootched down the bar, out of range of flying pancake viscera. The pancakes were shockingly good, almost as good as the wheatcakes his Aunt would make him from time to time. Clint alternated bites of pancake with gulps of coffee, looking like he hadn’t eaten in days.

“Hey, how come you aren’t in the Avengers tower, or the mansion, or whatever? Doesn’t Stark give all Avengers free room an’ board? Or did you not pay your dues or something?” Peter asked around a mouth full of pancake. 

Clint stared hard his plate for a moment. “Living in the tower is...trying at times.”

“Because Iron Man is having hot gay sex with Captain America?” Deadpool grinned and licked a glob of syrup off his hand.

Clint shook his head. “No, because I’m pretty sure I saw Stark having hot gay sex with a robot version of his butler.” He shuddered visibly. “It was a very inappropriate use of a Life Model Decoy. After that I figured Brooklyn was a nicer option.”

Wade snickered around a mouth full of food. “I gotta hand it to Stark, that’s sort of brilliant. I mean, I already knew LMDs were cool. You can put a human brain in one, they can copy almost any super human ability, you can repair any damage. Putting JARVIS in one is a good idea. I wonder if it’s like having sex with Data from Star Trek? Think he’s ‘fully functional’?” He waggled his eyebrows lewdly, which was, for some reason, detectable even under the mask. 

Peter put down his fork, put off his food for the moment. “First, that is disgusting, even for Tony Stark. Second, Deadpool, why do you know so much about Life Model Decoys? I didn’t think anyone outside of SHIELD contracts used them?”

Deadpool smiled widely. “Well I should be at least sorta familiar, my kid is being raised by one.” He popped a whole pancake into his mouth and followed it by spraying some syrup into his mouth, straight from the bottle.

Clint grabbed the bottle away. “Really? Gross.”

Peter was about to ask a follow up question, about the LMDs, about the kid Deadpool apparently had, but he was cut off by the sound of the door slamming open and bouncing off the wall.

“Clint! I got you a cell phone for a reason, you need to keep the ringer on! Or at least keep it on vibrate in your pocket if you’re not going to have your hearing aids in! Ugh!! You probably can’t even hear me yelling right now…” A pretty young woman in a purple dress stormed into the room, cellphone in hand.

“Hey Kate! I can hear you just fine.” Clint waved and popped another bite of pancake into his mouth. 

The woman, Kate, slumped and ran a hand through her her long dark hair. “Clint, are you kidding me, really? I called you like three times this morning.”

Clint shrugged and gestured to Peter and Wade. “As you can see, I have company, it’s been a busy morning.”

“Want some pancakes Hawkgirl?” Deadpool pushed a few onto an extra plate and shoved them towards her.

She hesitated a moment, and then dropped her purse on the ground and grabbed a seat. “Fine, but no calling me Hawkgirl.”

After breakfast Peter volunteered to do the dishes, and Kate moved into the kitchen with him to help. They stood side by side at the sink for a while, him washing, her drying and stacking the clean things in a dish rack. It was pleasant, almost normal, the lemony smell of dish soap, the sun coming through the windows.

“So, you’re the other Hawkeye huh?” Peter glanced sideways, getting a good look at her. She’s tall, and pretty, and her sleeveless dress shows off the muscles in her arms.

Kate laughed and nodded. “Yeah, I’m the other Hawkeye. It’s a pain in the neck ya know, having the same code name like that. SHIELD hates it, our handlers are constantly getting the wrong paperwork, but neither one of us wants to change.” 

Peter held up a clean mug with an ‘H’ on the front. “Too much branded swag huh?”

Kate nodded solemnly. “Clint and I are very attached to the gimmick.” She gestured down at her dress. “And the color scheme of course.”

Peter laughed. “I may have noticed that.”

“So…” Kate turned and stared at him. “Why are you sleeping on my sort of mentor’s couch? Not to be nosy, but I know Clint and I know the kinda trouble he gets into. I also know Wade and the kind of trouble he gets into, and if anything that’s worse.”

Peter looked away. “Wade is...doing me a favor, I guess you could say Clint is too.” He shot a glance over his shoulder, Wade and Clint had moved out to the fire escape to drink their coffee and chat in privacy. “Actually, how well do you know Wade anyways?”

Kate pulled a face. “I know enough,” she replied. “Or, I know as much as I really want to I guess. Wade is...complicated. I know he has a crap reputation, but he’s more chaotic neutral than bad, and he can be fun to work with if you keep a close enough on eye him to keep him from blowing everything up, but not too close to be put off by his tendency towards drag.” 

“Huh.” 

Kate laughed and finished drying the last mug before tossing the damp rag down. “Hey, in this line of work, no one is simple.” She looked at him for a long moment. “I have a feeling you know something about that.” She looked down at her watch, a flashy gold thing with little diamonds around the face. “Listen, I have to go, people to see, things to shoot, that sort of thing. Tell Clint I said bye okay?”

Pete nodded. “Oh, yeah, sure. Bye Kate.”

She smiled over her shoulder as she swung the door open. “Bye bye Spiderman.” The door closed behind her.  
Peter glared at the door. Damn Hawkeye. Damn other Hawkeye. Damn secret identity not being at all secret anymore. He turned when he heard a noise behind him, and found Clint and Wade leaning against the bar top and laughing. Wade had changed back into his normal suit at some point, but the bottom of his mask was rolled up to show his grin.

“Aw, Hawkgirl’s totally got your number huh?” Wade snickered.

Peter blushed. “How did she even guess? My best friends don’t know, my family doesn’t know!”

Clint rolled his eyes. “Kate is smart, and SHIELD trained. The whole super spy thing kinda helps when it comes to figuring out stuff like this.”

Peter’s shoulder sumped. “I’m guessing she won’t out me to everyone right?”

Clint shook his head. “Nah, she’s a wise ass from time to time but she wouldn’t do that.”

“Anyways, hate to eat and run boys but I have business to attend to. Most of that business being tracking down Osborn goons and hounding Fury for overtime pay.” Wade leaned over and planted a kiss on Clint’s cheek, drawing an indignant noise from the blond, and then pulled his mask down. He ruffled Peter’s hair as he passed by him. “Be good baby boy! Miss you!”

Peter waited for the door to close behind the other man before turning to look at Clint, eyebrows raised. 

“Oh, don’t look at me like that, Wade’s like that with everyone,” he snapped, idly rubbing at the spot on his cheek where he had been kissed. “Anyways, we have a whole day ahead of us, any idea what you wanna do?”

Peter shrugged. “Normally the whole Spiderman things keeps me pretty busy. As Peter I have a part time job and friends and stuff, but I kind of want to avoid them right now just in case any more of Osborn’s lackeys track me down.”

Clint nodded and glanced back towards the living room. “Well...do you like Dog Cops?”

Peter hesitated for a moment. “You watch Dog Cops?”

Clint laughed and motioned for Peter to follow him into the living room, where he sprawled out on the couch, leaving a space for Peter next to him. “Hey man, finding television shows all the Avengers will agree on is not easy. Thor and Hulk both like dogs, me and Tony like trashy reality shows, and Cap like cop shows. It’s kind of the perfect form of entertainment. It’s certainly better than Coulson and his thing with Supernanny.”

“Please tell me Coulson watches that show so he can get techniques to deal with you guys,” Peter replied

Clint blushed and elbowed him. “Hey, being a super hero handler isn’t easy.”


	5. Only Anarchists Are Pretty by The World Inferno Friendship Society

Chapter 5 Only Anarchists are pretty by The World Inferno Friendship Society

 

It took Clint a moment to get the TV on, and a few more to get the cable box to cooperate, but once the show started (Clint had about a dozen episodes stored on his DVR), they fell into companionable silence. After the second episode they were both laughing, shouting at the screen in tense moments, making cooing sounds over the new trainee puppies.

 

It was, to Peter’s surprise, that same feeling of normal that he had when he was washing dishes with Kate. There was no reason to worry about slipping up and saying something about his life as Spiderman, no constant worry about some villain coming to knock down a wall, for the first time in a long time he was able to relax. Even the times Peter had been talked into hanging around the tower after a mission he hadn’t been able to truly relax. He had been the only one to keep his mask on, and he had to avoid saying anything to reveal his secret identity. Now that Clint knew, he could say what he wanted.

 

And Clint was easy to talk to. He didn’t act like Peter was a little kid the way some of the other Avengers did, didn’t talk down to him, and he had normal interests, things like bad television, bad horror movies and good music. They watched half a season before getting bored and ordering a pizza for lunch. They brought it up to the roof to eat, a nice perk of clint owning the building was that he had full use of the roof when he needed. From there they had a good view of the neighborhood, streets busy and noisy, full of people going about their day. Peter normally did his rooftop patrol at night, so it was nice to be able to get the view in daylight for a change.

 

They’re halfway through the second pizza when Clint’s phone goes off. 

 

“ _ ♫ ‘Cause Only Anarchists Are, Only Anarchists Are, Only Anarchists Are Pretty ♫  _ ”

 

Clint pulls a face, blushing slightly, and slides his thumb across the screen, tapping the speaker button.

 

“Hey Wade, see you changed your ringtone on my phone again.”

 

“Aw, come on birdboy, they’re from Brooklyn!”

 

Clint sighed. “Not the point Deadpool. Anyways, what do you want?”

 

“Well, I have good news and bad news. Which do you want first?”

 

Clint looked at Peter.

 

“Good news please,” Peter answered.

 

“Well the good news is it doesn’t seem like anyone got your super secret info to Osborn! Bad news is, I think he hired even more goons after the ones I found went missing. I guess he took it as a sign they were on the right trail. So now there’s a bunch of scary thug types crawling around Queens.”

 

Peter sighed and dropped the slice of pizza he was holding back into the box, appetite gone. “So, I guess going home isn’t an option right now?”

 

Clint smiled ruefully. “At least I have a comfy couch?”

 

Wade made a loud whooping noise. “Aw yeah! Brotastic slumber party! I will bring tacos and beer!”

 

The phone cut out before Clint could say anything. Peter turned and looked at the older man. “Is he always like this?”

 

Clint shrugged and stood up, gathering the pizza boxes up. “Hey, if we’re lucky, he’ll bring videogames too. I am really good at videogames”

 

Peter just laughed. 

 

Clint gave him an exaggerated scowl. “What, it’s true. You can even ask Kate. Hawkeyes are good at Mario Kart, we have excellent reflexes!”

 

Peter raised an eyebrow. “Hawkeyes, is that how you refer to you guys? Like, collectively?”

 

“Hey! You have no room to talk, there’s HOW many spider heroes now?” Clint laughed.

 

“Most of them don’t even have spider powers! I have no idea how this even happened! I mean, some of them don’t have spider themed costumes either. I have no way to control this! I feel like I’m losing my personal brand!” Peter titled his head back and put the back of his hand to his forehead.

 

“Yeah there’s only a handful of bird heroes and we all get along, ya know?” Clint replied, grabbing an errant pizza crust and stuffing it in his mouth. 

 

Peter gaped at him. “That was my pizza crust you scavanger! You’re mor elike a pigeon than a hawk.” He thought for a moment. “Actually, ntohing about the whol hawk thing makes sense anyways. You don’t fly or have a hawk symbol on your outfit or anything. Besides, Eagleeye would sound better.”

 

Clint stuck his tongue out. “Caw caw motherfucker.”


	6. Praise the Lord and Pass the Ammunition by Kay Kyser

Deadpool did, in fact, bring Mariokart. He showed up an hour later with a seemingly bottomless duffel bag, from which he pulled an old Nintendo 64 and a pack of Mexican Coca Cola in glass bottles.

 

“It’s waaaaay better than the normal stuff,” He assured Peter, handing the soda over and busying himself with setting up the game system.  

 

Peter picked up one of the glass bottles and inspected the label for a moment.

 

Clint snatched it out of his hand and twisted the cap off with a soft hiss and took a long drink. “It really is better,” he said, turning his attention to the pile of cartridges Deadpool had dumped on the coffee table. “Mario Kart, Super Smash Bros., Mario Party, Pokemon Snap, Pokemon Stadium…”

 

Deadpool made a triumphant noise as he jabbed in a final cord into a slot, punching his fists into the air as the TV glowed with the Goldeneye 007 logo screen.

 

“Oh god this game is the best!” Clint hopped over the back of the couch and grabbed a controller, making sure he got the clear purple plastic one. “I am really good at shooting games.”

“OMG! Me too!” Deadpool squealed and grabbed his own controller, taking a seat next to Clint and putting his boots up on the table. “I used to pay this game all the time. It helped inspire my love of guns.”

 

Peter watched, bemused, as they started the game. They seemed totally  engrossed in the game, eyes glued to the screen as they navigated the dark grey halls in the game. The game looked ancient, all the character models were crudely colored polygons, but the two men were taking it as seriously as any SHIELD mission, crowing in victory at every shot they made.

 

“So, this game is...fun?” Peter asked, sitting down on the arm of the sofa and taking a small sip of one of the bottles of Coke. It was good, sweet, and somehow just slightly better than a normal one. 

 

Clint turned to Peter, mouth open in astonishment. “You’ve never played Goldeneye?” He elbowed Deadpool in the side. “He’s never played Goldeneye!”

 

Deadpool shook his head sadly. “Oh baby boy, you have no idea what you’re missing. This game is amazing. It is a game that defines a generation!”

 

Peter shrugged. “Well, not my generation I guess. I mainly play computer games anyways.”

 

Clint and Wade shared a look and then nodded in unison.

 

“Well then we must teach you young one,” Clint said sagely, pulling Peter off the the arm of the chair and in between himself and Deadpool.

 

“Here, take this,” Wade said, shoving a controller into his hands. “The aim is to shoot your enemies, while also not getting yourself shot.”

 

“Seems pretty simple,” Peter commented, testing a few of the buttons. 

 

“I mean, you say that…” Deadpool muttered under his breath, refocusing on the game. 

 

The game was fun, even if it was old. After a few rounds of gunfighting they switched over to Mario Kart, which Peter was much more familiar for. Clint, true to his word, was good at every game they played, holding his own against the clearly more experienced Deadpool who favored a near perfect memory of every shortcut on every course over plain skill. They played for a few hours, until the sun was gone and they had run out of soda and chips. 

 

Peter sat back, smiling widely after his first win of the evening and looked at the two men. Clint and Wade had come in a close second and third, and were busy arguing over the fairness of the game’s AI. It was nice, having some time off. But he couldn’t help but stare out the window with a strange sense of longing. Going on patrol as Spiderman was an important part of his life, skipping it made him feel strange and antsy.  

 

“Hey, Petey, you alright?” Clint poked him on the shoulder gently. “You looked about a million miles away.”

 

“Oh, uh, yeah, sorry.” Peter answered quickly. “It’s nothing. I was just thinking how weird it feels not going on patrol is all.”

 

“Oh man, I haven’t done the whole beat cop thing in ages,” Clint said, tapping his chin thoughtfully. “Avengers protocol doesn’t really include doing sweeps of the neighborhood.”

 

Clint and Wade shared a look, a smile slowly spreading across Clint’s face.

 

“You thinking what I’m thinkin’ bird boy?” Deadpool asked, bouncing slightly in his seat.

 

“We go out and have some fun?” Clint responded, already up and out of his seat. “Oh yeah, lemme get a costume on!” He dashed down the hall towards his bedroom, already pulling his shirt over his head and dropping it behind him.

 

“This is gonna be fun baby boy!” Deadpool squealed, jumping up. “I get to go on patrol with the Avengers! Kind of!”

 

Pete hesitated a moment and then smiled, nodding his affirmation. “Let me get my suit on.” He disappeared into the bathroom with his bag and when he emerged Hawkeye was sitting on the couch, fiddling with his bow.

 

“I thought you were going to put on a costume?” Peter asked, pulling on his own mask.

 

Clint stuck his tongue out. “I  _ am _ in a costume! This is it!” He gestured down to his body. He was wearing a black tee shirt with a purple arrow symbol on it and black cargo pants and heavy boots. “See?”

 

Peter titled his head and squinted. “Not really.” he pointed at Clint’s face. “I mean, you aren’t even wearing a mask!”

 

Clint patted a few of his pockets and then made a triumphant noise, pulling out a pair of black wrap around sunglasses and sliding them on. “There we go, perfect!”

 

Peter just shook his head and made a bee line for the window over the fire escape.

Outside, the air had begun to cool, the sun gone. The city was still alive and awake through, the streets filled with cars and cabs and trucks. They crawled out the fire escape and up onto the roof, picking their way along the edge of the building and then jumping to the escape of the next building over. Peter hopped across easily, sticking to the brick wall to make room for Deadpool, who managed the jump with a quick flip. Clint had to give himself a running start, but caught ahold of the railing easily enough, mutter about meta humans under his breath as he hauled himself over and up.

 

It was quiet for the first hour or so. They climbed buildings and at one point carefully made their way across a subway overpass. Deadpool managed to fall off a roof at one point, but he cracked his leg back into shape after a minute and they carried on. 

 

It was nice, moving across the city wit company. Sure Peter had to slow down now and then or change his route to accommodate two people who wouldn’t climb up a wall with no hand holds, but it was nice. He was used to patrols being a rather lonely business, something he did by himself.  

 

He was yanked from his thoughts by a sudden sound coming from the street below them. A woman crying and a man yelling loudly. He stiffened and listened for a moment, and then he heard it, the almost silent little *click* of a gun safety being turned off. His whole body shivered, his spidey sense kicking into high gear. He tapped Clint and Deadpool, both seemingly unaware of the crime happening thirty odd stories down, and then jerked his chin down at the alleyway, waving for them to follow. 

 

He took off crawling straight down the wall, keeping in the shadow of the fire escape until he saw them. It was a man, tall, with a red baseball cap pulled low over his eyes. His shoulders were hunched and he was wobbling on his feet, holding his gun with both hands. It was a large handgun, and he had a finger on the trigger, aimed at a woman in front of him. She was young, not much older than Peter himself, and she was crying. Laying at her feet was a little canister of pepper spray, the cap still on, and she was clutching her purse and breathing hard. 

 

Petter aimed his web shooter carefully at the gun, and just as he was about to shoot it out of the man’s hands, he moved. 

 

An arrow struck the ground, the alley filling with smoke as soon as it made contact. Peter could just see through the artificial fog, and he saw Deadpool drop down form above, a sickening crunch alerting him that he had likely broken something in the jump.

 

“Hey now hey now, this isn’t a toy you know!” Deadpool reached out and put a hand over the barrel of the gun. The man jerked back in surprise, eyes wide, and pulled the trigger. The bullet ripped right through Deadpool’s hand and flew into the wall a few feet above the woman’s head. 

 

She collapsed on the ground with a whimper, her hands covering her ears. Peter cursed and swung down, crouching next to her. 

 

“It's okay, we have you don't wor-” he was cut off by the sound of a scared shout.

 

Deadpool had grabbed the man's wrist and twisted it until it made a sickening snap, catching the falling gun as he dropped it. 

 

“Mister, that was a bad idea.” Deadpool laughed and tossed the gun in the air. “ _ ♫ praise the Lord, and pass the ammunition ♫”   _ he said in a sing song voice. 

 

Clint dropped down and reached into his pockets, pulling out a number of zip ties. “These make pretty good cuffs, here you go.” He tossed them to Deadpool, who fumbled for a moment, dropping the gun in the process. 

The man dove for the gun, grabbing it and managing to pull off a single shot. It went wide, and Peter hissed in pain as it just grazed his arm, tearing a hole in his suit and tearing into the skin underneath. 

 

Clint cursed and went to notch an arrow, but before he could finish Deadpool made his move. With a single graceful move he unsheathed his katana and buried in the man's chest. He made a gasping, hollow, gurgle and raised his hands to pull at the blade. Deadpool placed his foot on the man's chest and kicked, pulling his sword free. He flicked the blood off and resheathed it on his back, oddly silent as the man crumpled to the ground. 

  
The woman let out a choked sob and then pulled away from Peter, running down the alley. In the distance a siren began to wail. 


End file.
